


Lonely

by greenhouse793



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Giant Squid POV, here there be no tentacle porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 17:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11605311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenhouse793/pseuds/greenhouse793
Summary: All alone, the Giant Squid waits for the coming of the one who will lift his curse.





	Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted from fanfiction.net, where I deleted it and all my other works ~10 years ago.

Once I had believed him attractive; beautiful, charming, and clever. Yet as his wand leveled between my eyes, full lips twisted in a sneer, I could only see him as the monster he was destined to become.

" _ Permuto Aquatilis! _ " he shouted, waving his wand with a flourish. A stream of rust-colored light burst forth from the tip, flooding my veins with liquid fire. A ragged scream tore from my throat, until my lips could no longer shape sound and my tongue could no longer form it. I gasped for breath, clawing at my throat with fingers that fused together; elongated; were no longer fingers at all.

Riddle cocked his head to one side, eyeing me with a detached fascination, before he gave one sharp laugh and his kick sent me sprawling into icy black water.

Days passed. 

Weeks passed. 

Years. 

Decades. 

Deep in the dark expanses of the lake, I grew and grew until I could inspire fear into the heart of Riddle himself.

I became a legend.

And still, I waited.

Waiting for the one to come who would recognize me for who I truly was, not for the creature that I had become.

As time passed, my memory grew fainter and fainter as the last remnants of humanity slid from my grasp. But still, after all those years, I remembered Tom. I remembered the way he laughed, the way his smile could make his entire face glow. I remembered the way he would gently suck on the tips of his quills in classes, his expression rapt and attentive but his eyes distant. I remembered the way his hair felt threading through my fingers, the weight of his head in my lap, the passionate gleam in his eye and the gesticulating fingers as he spoke of the ages of wizardry past. 

Above all, I remember the way his face had contorted into something grotesque and malicious as I spoke the three words he had never wished to hear.  

The mermaids, kelpies, and other creatures of the deep gave me a wide berth. To them I was but an inconvenience, a large and ungainly beast occupying their space and eating their food. The students at the school – they feared me. To them, I was the monster that lives in the darkness, waiting for one to swim too deeply, and the ghost story to frighten first years.

Sometimes the students would play dares, wanting to see who was brave enough to swim out the farthest, who could swim closest to me in a show of bravery. I liked those days. It was almost like having friends.

And still, I waited.

Half a century passed, and then I saw someone new at the lakeside. I immediately found myself drawn to the look of kindness and wisdom that shone from her open face. It was like a revival, a sudden shot of adrenaline to a spirit that had grown complacent in purgatory. For the first time in fifty years, I felt something akin to hope. I lurked near the surface for the rest of the day, even as the sun sank below the horizon and its warmth faded from the water.

She came back the next day, her white-blonde hair flowing around her shoulders. I found myself wondering what it would feel like, if I had fingers that I could stroke through it; if I could be allowed to touch. If she, with her wise eyes and trusting smile, could see the heart of man through the flesh of fish.

The small, tentative sprig of hope began to cautiously blossom.

She sat at the edge of the boat dock and dangled her bare feet in the water, kicking back and forth. Back and forth. A lazy  _swish, swish_. I could feel the ripples dancing about me in greeting as I swam towards her, slowly so that she wouldn't startle.

She extended a hand to me, smiling softly. She spoke, but it had been too long since I could fathom the words of humans. As I drifted closer, her smile widened. I hesitantly placed my head into her outstretched hand, and her fingers are soft and gentle and sure. Hope threw caution to the wind and exploded in a kaleidoscope of colour. This one did not fear me. This one, who was as misunderstood by her kind as I was.

I sat by her side, content to let her stroke my head and whisper to me as I simply basked in her presence. Her musical voice filled me and I loved the sound, even if my ears could not determine the words. I closed my eyes and felt the ghost of something long forgotten swelling within me.

The next day she returned. She trailed her feet in the water and smiled brightly as I swam up to greet her. I snaked a tentacle around her foot, and without hesitation, she jumped into the lake beside me.

Her laugh was loud and joyous as she swam with me, hair floating behind her like a silvery cloud.  For the first time, I wished that I had my human form back not so that I might stand in the sunshine, but simply that I might hold her in my arms, feel the texture of her hair, and, above all, understand her words.

All too soon, she left, pressing a soft kiss to my beak as she went. I ached to see her walk away, but I knew with the utmost certainty that she would be back. I could read it in her gaze. I could hear it in her whisper, even if I did not know her tongue. The one who doesn't fear me will always return.

But she didn't come the next day. 

Nor the next.

I swam around the lake alone. The mermaids fled when they sensed my approach. The kelpies and grindylows maintained their usual distance. I was as much of an outcast as ever. In fifty years, only she hadn't shied away. 

And yet she hadn't come back.

For three endless days, I swam in my despair, each lap of the lake bringing me close to the docks.  _Next time_ , I promised myself as I left the docks to begin another lap.  _Next time I pass, she'll be there_. 

Finally, on the fourth day, she was.

She rushed up the dock, her bare feet padding lightly on the rough wood. I rose to the surface to greet her, thrilled beyond measure that she had come back for me.

She talked quickly, an excited lilt to her musical voice that filled me with echoing joy. She leaped into the water with a splash, wrapping her arms around me in a quick embrace before pointing her wand in my face.

I couldn't help but to tense at the mirror of Tom's stance fifty years earlier. Yet this time, I felt no fear. How could I, when  _ she _  was there, smiling at me in such a direct contrast to Tom's rage? 

She whispered something - a spell, it must have been - and I felt the familiar, stinging pain surround me. My muscles contracted, shrinking into a form much smaller than my previous shape. As I began to sink below the water's surface, joints locked and seized in pain, she caught me, whispering musical words of encouragement and adoration. She held me until the pain vanished. Until new eyes opened and I began to understand her words.

"Hello," she said with a smile as I gazed into eyes of the clearest blue. "My name is Luna."

"Luna," I whispered with a hoarse and uncertain tongue that hadn't been used in fifty years. I stroked down her cheek with a trembling finger, caught between marveling at the softness of her skin and staring in wonder at my own hand. It was a hand that I hadn't seen in so long, still as young and as flawless as I recalled it, preserved by the curse that left me all alone, forgotten and aging at the pace of a leviathan.

Her smile widened and she pulled me towards the shallower water until we could stand. The feel of soft mud between my toes was a revelation. I wiggled them deeper into the cool muck, laughing at the sensation in spite of myself.

"But… How did you know?" I wondered, confusion wrinkling my brow. And that - huh. I had  _eyebrows_ and could  _emote_ , and being human was  _amazing_. 

"It was your eyes," she said with a smile. "I looked into them and I knew."

"You were never afraid of me." It wasn't a question, but she answered anyways.

"How could I be, when you looked as lonely as I was?"

I smiled at her words, an awkward quirk of long-neglected lips. "Luna," I whispered the name in quiet awe, tracing the line of her own eyebrows. She quirked one of them beneath my fingers, but smiled at me all the same. 

"I won't let you be lonely anymore," she said softly.

In the icy shallows of the lake where I had resided alone for so many years, I held her and I vowed that I would never let go again.


End file.
